


John Hates Mornings

by goldvermilion87



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-19
Updated: 2011-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-23 20:56:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldvermilion87/pseuds/goldvermilion87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three mornings in John's life after meeting Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

"Mrs. Hudson has the lease for you to sign. She should be in her flat all day."

John put his cup of coffee on the counter, and stifled a yawn. He couldn't have had more than three hours of sleep.

"Make sure you wash those sheets before you give them back to me. Use a detergent that is free of dyes or scents."

"Hmm? Oh… yes, yes…"

"You can put food in the left crisper drawer."

"Thanks."

"The right is for experiments."

"Okay…"

John nearly tripped when Sherlock swooped past him and dashed down the stairs. He stood in the silent kitchen for a few seconds and wished he'd thought to make a cup of coffee. Then he went upstairs to get his phone and wallet. Now that rent was sorted, he could afford a cup from Starbucks without feeling too much guilt. He'd buy one before he picked up the rest of his things.

He was just starting to pull the sheets off his bed when he stood up.

"Hang on! You took my coffee!"


	2. Part Two

"What!?"

When John opened his eyes, his door was swinging shut.

"Should've installed the bloody doorstop!" he groaned as he forced himself out of bed and began fumbling with his shirt buttons.

Five minutes later he had started a cup of last night's coffee in the microwave. "What is it, Sherlock?"

"Benson!" Sherlock appeared in the doorway, texting with his right hand as he shrugged his left arm into his coat. "It was Benson all along! Idiot! Should've seen it on Saturday, but I missed…"

John cursed at his shoelaces and ignored Sherlock in favor of looking speculatively at his bottle of Maxtrex.

"Yes, John. Every Monday."

"Is it Monday?"

"You're absolutely useless in the mornings! Do you honestly think I could have overlooked a clue like that for more than twenty-four hours?"

John snorted, washed the pill down with half his cup of lukewarm coffee, and started stiffly after Sherlock, who was almost halfway to the street.

At the foot of the stairs he stopped short. "Hang on! I can't take that without…"

"Especially Monday mornings! Left pocket, John!"

"Ah."

John reached into his pocket and felt a banana. He smiled, and started running.


	3. Part Three

"Mrs. Hudson made it!" Sherlock's face fell, and he stared at the lukewarm cup of coffee he had carried into the room. John could almost hear his hard drive spinning.

"No, no… she… No. That nurse who can't even remember your name? She made it. For me. She thinks it's for me." Sherlock grinned at John. "Because she's an idiot and she doesn't observe!"

At the sound of the door handle, he placed the cup under the bed and put on his best faux-friendly smile.

"Ah, John, and Sh—erm... Sherwood? I have his medication…"

Sherlock scowled at the nurse. "Yes, yes! Give it to me!"

John was nearly certain that Jocelyn had been trying to offer the little plastic cup to Sherlock before he grabbed it from her hands. She left the room very quickly.

"I'm not sure about her, John." Sherlock peered at the medicine, sniffed, and then brought it to his own lips. "We have to be careful. Moriarty has many… no he died years… Still. Better safe than… well…"

John willed Sherlock to put it down. To his relief Sherlock looked at him for a few seconds, and then administered the medication.

"I know it tasted foul, but this will help." Sherlock put the medicine cup on the bedside table and retrieved the coffee.

It wouldn't, really… The doctor had forbidden coffee with good reason, so John knew he would pay for the indulgence in a few hours.

Still, he did his best to make certain that Sherlock saw a smile in his eyes as he drank it.

"Those meds!" Sherlock picked up a tissue, and wiped a tear from the corner of John's eye. "What's the point of even being here if the doctors can't do something as simple as find a drug that won't make your eyes water?"

It was far too easy to fool someone who could still see, but no longer observed.


End file.
